


Peek-a-boo!

by Simply_A_Cherry_Bomb



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Halloween, M/M, Song Fic Kinda, marks a pizza delivery boy, not much fluff or angst, not really sure how to tag this to be honest, peek-a-boo was just a good song for Halloween, some violence, the dreamies are red velvet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_A_Cherry_Bomb/pseuds/Simply_A_Cherry_Bomb
Summary: Mark guesses that maybe getting invited by a strange cute boy into a creepy house wouldn't be that much of a bad idea. He's clearly wrong as bad memories return to him.





	1. Chapter 1

Mark slumped back in his chair, humming in boredom and he wondered what went wrong in his life (to be honest this life was just wrong), that he ended up working at a pizza place that for some weird reason, had a 24/7 delivery service. Maybe it was when his mum barged into his room on a normal Friday afternoon, holding a bin bag in her hands, and threatening to throw away his manga collection if he didn't find himself a job by the end of the day (she would never, because even she loved those books, but still used Mark’s panic to her advantage).

It had been a good year since Mark had joined, yet half of his memory surrounding the pizza place was gone. He guessed it might've been be sure if 

“Pick up the phone Markie!” Lucas called from across the kitchen, waving his hands around frantically and snapping Mark out of his thoughts, bringing him back into reality (not that he wanted to be back), in which the sound of the phone echoed in the empty pizza shop. Internally groaning, Mark reached forwards, hoping that the who called would offer to come and pick up the pizza, rather than get home delivery, because Mark was exhausted and all he really wanted to do was go home and sleep for the two hours he would get before he would have to go university.

“Hello?” The caller said, their voice was soft and _so_ _familiar_ and Mark couldn't help but stop breathing for a few moments. The caller, obviously confused by the silence, began to question if they called the right place, their tone already turning into one filled with embarrassment.

“No no!” Mark hurriedly said, finally finding his voice, and although it came out high pitched (to which Lucas let out a loud snort), he continued, “You called the right place. I'm sorry, what would you like to order?”

“Ah, thank goodness.” The boy replied, letting out a sigh of relief, and honestly Mark was already amazed by whoever this was, just because of their soothing voice. He recited his order, and Mark quickly wrote it down on a piece of paper, nodding along and humming a few times when the boy asked if that was alright. “You guys do delivery, right?”

“Yup!” The enthusiasm in Mark’s voice surprised himself, and Lucas, but he didn't pay much attention to it, but instead just quickly noted down the address, a house in an area of town which he never came across, before hurrying to prepare the pizza.

“Should I go?” Lucas offered, raising his head in front of the counter and tilting it to catch a better view of Mark, who ran across the kitchen, mixing the ingredients in a hurry. A panicked ‘no’ escaped Mark's mouth, and Lucas couldn't help but laugh at this. He nodded before turning away, letting the other get on with whatever he was doing.

The pizza was made quite quickly, and Mark stuffed it into the back of his motorbike, ignoring the strange looks Lucas was giving him from through the windows. There was a weird sense of excitement in Mark, something unexplainable, and he hadn't experienced anything like this before. Throwing a leg over the bike, Mark settled down, removing his cap and strapping the helmet around his face. The longer he took, the more the unsettling feeling in his stomach spread. He had to hurry. He just had to.

Wind rushed into his face as Mark drove down the roads, the helmet clearly not doing much to stop the disturbance, but Mark couldn't care less about that, all he could think about was that voice, that person, that address.

“This house…?” Mark looked up at it, then down at his phone, which displayed a map telling him that he had reached. It looked so familiar, almost as if he had been there before, walking in it before, spoken to someone in there, but he hadn't. It was his first time in that area of town, yet it all seemed so nostalgic.

Shaking his head, Mark took a step forward, clutching onto the pizza box with excess force (a crease formed in the cardboard, but Mark ignored it), and stared up at the house. The sickening feeling in his stomach only worsened once he rang the bell, the annoying noise echoing in the house, and he could hear it clearly, even from the outside. Footsteps coming to the door were heard, before a dark figure stopped in front of the distorted glass.

Mark gulped as the person behind the door remained stationary, wondering whether or not he should ring the bell again, or drop the pizza there and run. But after those few seconds of overthinking, the door opened, revealing a boy that seemed much younger than him, dressed entirely in red and a smile on his face.

“You're a pizza delivery guy, right?” He asked, his voice was different to the one Mark heard, and he guessed that must mean multiple people lived here. Just as he opened his mouth to say yes, another person entered the hallway, also in red (was there a dress code here? Only to wear red?), stopping him before he could.

“Chenle.”  _ That's him _ , Mark thought, his eyes fixated on the boy who walked towards them, putting a hand on the younger boy - Chenle’s - shoulder. “This is my pizza, order your own.”

“No fair.” Chenle sighed, shrugging the older boys hand off his shoulder, before shuffling out of the way, disappearing into one of the rooms, but Mark didn't pay much mind to it, not when the boy in front of him leaned forwards, a warm smile on his face as he took the box of pizza from Mark.

“How much would that be again?” He asked, holding the pizza in one hand and his money in the other.

“£8.50, please.” Mark said, watching as the boy nodded and then quickly dropped the money into his hands. They stood still for a while, Mark waiting for the boy to close the door on him, as the latter only stared at Mark, his brown eyes which looked soft a while ago, piercing through his head.

“Wanna come in, we’re playing games?” The boy asked, taking a step back and nodding his head to the room, where light was shown (and where Chenle most probably disappeared to). Mark hesitated, obviously, before agreeing and pulling out his phone, sending Lucas an ambiguous text and hoping he didn't reply to it. “I'm Haechan.”

The boy held his hand out, and Mark grabbed it slowly, shaking it before getting dragged into the house, his mind spinning from the sudden movement and change in directions. They walked through the house, this room seeming a lot further than Mark had expected, before they stopped to face five boys sitting on the ground. Mark's vision was blinded with red, since everyone in the room was dressed in red (technically even Mark, if you counted the red strips in his uniform). He recognised one of the boys, Chenle, but turned to the other four, who stared up at him with blank expressions.

“Hey.” Mark said, his eyes stopping at one particular boy, a brunette, before snapping back to Haechan.

“This is,” Haechan stopped, looking up to the ceiling, a pout on his face, before laughing and glancing at Mark, “I didn't quite catch your name.”

“Mark.” He quickly answered.

“Ah, Mark.” Haechan hummed, and somehow Mark’s named seemed a lot more special hearing it from him. “This is Jaemin.” He said, gesturing to the pink haired male, who resided besides a white haired boy, who Haechan then called, “Jeno.”

“Yo.” They both said, raising their hands to their heads and saluting him, cold looks plastered over their faces, and Mark didn't know if he should try and be friendly with them or not. 

“Hi.” Mark awkwardly tried to copy their action, before letting Haechan continue.

“You already know Chenle,” Haechan rolled his eyes when Chenle jumped up in his seat, waving at Mark excitedly. “This is Renjun.” And said boy tore his eyes from the book in his hands, a smile (which seemed very forced) was on his face, alongside the glasses that slipped down his nose, before he looked back down. “And this!” Haechan walked over to the last one, bending down and pointing a finger straight to his head. “This is Jisung!”

“Jisung…?” Mark stopped, narrowing his eyes at the brunette, something at the back of his mind tugged at him, and the boy looked so familiar. “Have we met before?”

“That’s highly unlikely.” Jaemin said, replying for the brunette, as he got up and took a seat besides Jisung, his hand slipping into his and they intertwined their fingers. Mark stared at them for a while, before Haechan shook him out of it and told him to sit. 

Nervously, Mark sat between Haechan and Jaemin, folding his legs and looking at the table, choosing not to make eye contact with any of them, since they had an intimidating aura around them (except for Haechan and Chenle, of course).

“Lets play cards!” Jeno said, his eyes squinting into crescent moons, and the cold look he first displayed immediately vanished. “I'll be the dealer.”

As the cards flew across the table, into small piles in front of each of them, a hand crawled beside Mark's, making him freeze in his spot. He dropped his eyes from Jeno and snuck a peak at his hand, which was covered by another one. Haechan leaned towards him, causing Mark's breath to hitch, and he brushed his hair back with his other hand.

"Do you know how to play this game?" Haechan asked, his breath blowing against the surface of Marks cheek, a shiver running through both of them, and the others pretended to not pay attention to them. 

"Maybe." Mark replied, his voice equally as hushed as Haechan, and he tried his best to try and sit up straight, but getting restricted by the hand that landed on his thigh. Although it caused a calming sense of relief in Mark, it still made his hair sit up. The touch felt familiar, again, it felt like something Mark had already felt. Something that he just couldn't remember. It was there at the back of his mind, a faint memory that was trying to come up to the surface, but being forced down by something else. That, Mark didn't understand.

"I can help you." Haechan giggled, _he_ _fricking giggled_. And it was adorable.

"If that's cool." Mark smiled, choosing to let go of whatever the memory was and drown himself in the moment. They picked up their cards, passed a few around, laughs escaped their mouths and they all reminded Mark of his own friends.

_ Lucas _ .

Mark quickly pulled his phone out, and the others flinched by the sudden action. He saw that he had gotten over 20 texts from Lucas, and couldn't help but feel bad.

** _Mark_ **

_ I gotta go. Can't come back _

_ (Two hours ago) _

  
  


** _Lucas_ **

_ MARK? _

_ Yo dude please don't leave me alone _

_ Hey markkkk _

_ Mark seriously _

_ You know I hate being left alone at the shop :( _

_ Mark _

_ Dude wth _

_ Mark _

_ MarkK _

_ mark Lee _

_ Lee Minghyung.  _

_ You said you wouldn't ditch on me again _

_ Liar _

_ Horrible dude _

_ Bad person  _

_ Meanie _

_ I can't even insult you bro _

_ I love you too much  _

_ Why am I like this _

_ Okay  _

_ Just message me when you see this  _

_ Okay??? _

_ I guess I'll call Ten or someone to join me _

_ :( _

_ Cheater _

_ (Two hours ago) _

  
  


"What's up?" Haechan asked, comfortably placing his chin on Mark's shoulder, and snuggling in. Mark rushed to lock his screen, before turning to face Haechan, a small grin on his face.

"Nothing." Mark said, before glancing around the room, only now realising that the other had left.

"They went to eat food." Haechan said, reading his mind and standing up, extending a hand out to Mark. "Come join us."

_ No, I need to go home. _ Is what Mark wanted to say, remembering that he hadn't even informed his parents about why he was still not home, even though his shift ended ages ago. But instead of that, he said, "Sure, let's go.", Happily accepting Haechan's hand and picking himself up from the floor, dusting the small specks of dust from his legs.

The walk through the house wasn't quiet, Haechan walked a step ahead of Mark, cutely humming along to a song, swaying his head from one side to another, and bouncing on his steps, the smile on his face becoming smaller and smaller as they neared a specific room. It dropped completely once they reached the room, the door was still closed, so Haechan turned around, letting go of a deep breath and staring at Mark with determined eyes.

"Mark," Haechan said, taking a step forward, his hand rising to Mark's cheek, the gentle touch contrasting with the roughness of his damaged skin. "I'm just going to tell you, you can say no."

"Say no?" Mark asked, tilting his head to the side, his eyes wandering past Haechan and to the door, his thoughts running wild and the noises from the other side making the twist in his stomach return. "To what?"

"Anything they say." Haechan replied, sliding his hand down Marks face, to his neck, his shoulder, his arm and then his hand, clutching onto it as if his life depended on it, and then leading him into the room. 

The guys were seated on a long table, food set out in front of them, and the only thing Mark could think about was where they managed to get such a feast. Haechan walked him to a chair, pulling it out and gesturing for him to sit there. The lights were dimmed, and the guys were staring at their food filled plates with empty eyes. The sound of Mark's stomach growling echoed in the room, which was followed by Haechan's muffled laughter.

"Eat up." Haechan giggled, leaning over to nudge Mark, before picking up the spoon to eat.

"But…" mark paused, his eyes scanning his area to find no utensils, "there's no spoon…"

"Eat without it." Chenle called out from across the table, his head hung long as he stuffed his face with chicken, a fork in his hand. 

"Without— Haechan?" Mark turned to the boy besides him, confusion and worry in his eyes. The said boy only continued eating his own food, yet the tight expression on his face didn't go unnoticed. When silence followed his question, Mark leaned forwards, examining the jelly and wondering how he could possibly eat that without making a mess. He opened his mouth, quickly checking if anyone was looking at him, before biting down on the side of the jelly. It fell apart quickly, breaking into multiple pieces and sliding out of his mouth, unfortunately landing on the floor. 

Mark stared at the jelly for a few moments, debating whether or not to continue, before leaning down again, biting at the jelly and managing to actually eat a lot more than before.

"I'm sorry." Haechan whispered, placing the spoon down as the others stood up from their seat. The words triggered something in Mark's head, causing him to jerk upwards, the jelly in his mouth forcing him to remain quiet, but the look on his face speaking for itself. The memory at the back of his head began to resurface, and the sight of Haechan sitting on top of him, hand ready to punch and regret plastered over his face, flashed in Marks eyes. His heart beat began to fasten and the sweat on his forehead tan down his face, the cool feeling making him more aware of his surroundings than before.

"Haechan…" Mark swallowed the lump of jelly, his gaze turning to the boy, but darkness filled his sight, a suffocating feeling washing over him, and his hands got swung back. His cries came out muffled and his senses slipped out of his body. Just like last time.


	2. Chapter 2

Mark sighed into his hands, the pizza shop door opened and wind rushed in, immediately getting rid of the heat Mark had collected over the past hour with the shitty heater he had in the corner of the room. Jisung walked in and muttered an apology, bowing down before rushing into the dressing room, quickly pulling off his clothes and replacing them with his uniform —an ugly orange shit with white strips. 

"You're late," Mark commented as Jisung took a seat beside him, copying his action of taking his shoes off. The two sat crossed legs on the uncomfortable chairs and began to talk about things that happened in their day. It was always like this. Jisung would come straight from university to the shop, and Mark would come straight from his house. Nothing special would happen in Mark's life, he would simply spend his entire day doing the chores his mum set him before coming to work during the night shift. His sleep routine wasn't as messed up as Jisung, however, who would go to university full time and then spend the night working.

"I'll get it," Jisung said as the phone rang, grudgingly forcing himself up and picked up the phone. He pressed it against his ear and reached over to pick the piece of paper across the table, but as he did, the caller spoke up. "Hello?"

Mark watched as Jisung spoke to the caller in a quiet voice, almost as if he was trying to make sure Mark couldn't hear him. He scribbled down the order before running across the kitchen to make the meal. 

"Hey, you okay?" Mark grabbed Jisung's arm, halting his movement and the younger flinched at the contact.

"Yeah, perfectly fine."

Jisung shrugged off Mark's hand and continued doing his work, messily dropping the toppings over the pizza whilst throwing chips into the oil. Mark moved forwards, to warn the younger and probably question his strange behaviour again, but before he could, Jisung packed away the food and ran out of the shop. A confused Mark watched as Jisung stuffed the food into the compartment on the bike before hopping on and driving off. 

"What a weirdo…"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


An hour had passed but Jisung hadn't returned. Mark was pacing around the shop, worry filling him as there was no sign of the younger coming back. It never took Jisung this long to deliver pizza. Why was it taking so long this time? Mark's phone buzzed and he hurriedly picked it up, answering the call he got —Jisung's name was displayed on the screen— and almost slapped the phone against his ear.

"Jisung? Where are you?" Mark asked, wasting no time to question the younger's safety.

"Hyung…" His voice came out weak, as if he was getting strangled. "Help me."

The call ended before Mark could repeat his question and panic flooded him. Jisung was asking for help, but where was he? Running a hand through his hand, Mark continued to pace around the shop, not knowing what else to do until he caught sight of a paper sitting casually next to the shop phone. He jumped forward, grabbing the paper and read through the contents.

It was an address of a place he has never been to, somewhere on the other side of the neighborhood. Mark narrowed his eyes but ran out of the shop, locking it behind himself and silently praying Jaehyun, the owner of the shop, wouldn't kill him for leaving it unattended.

Mark groaned when he realised Jisung had taken the only bike they had and quickly called an Uber, hoping it could arrive quickly. By the time it reached him ten minutes had already passed. Mark slide into the seats, showing the driver where he wanted to go before sinking into his spot. He has to save Jisung from something but he didn't even know what it was. Maybe a serial killer had gotten ahold of him before he even reached the house? Maybe a bunch of kids had gotten into an accident with him and then left him to suffer? Just the thought made Mark shudder and he tried to muffle his whines with his sleeve. 

The car came to a stop and Mark jumped up, thanking the driver before hurrying out of the car. He stood on the pavement, staring in confusion as he saw the shop motorcycle parked neatly on the road. Mark gulped down his nervousness and make small steps towards the door of the creepy house. He looked around and tried to ignore the dark stains on the grass, choosing to call it water. When he stood in front of the door, he realised that it was already open and a crack of light was shining out. 

Taking a deep breath, Mark put his hand on the door, pushing it slowly and grimacing at the sound of the wood creaking. He took a deep breath as he stepped into the house, glancing around at the walls and eyeing the candles there were. Mark saw a door near the end of the hallway that had a bright light shining through it. Cautiously, Mark took a step closer, trying to hold his breath and not alert anyone of his presence. He heard voices through the doors and clutched a hand to his chest, a useless attempt to calm his heartbeat. 

Shakily, Mark put his other hand on the door handle, trying his best to not collapse. He pushed the door open and was immediately blinded by light. The voices in the room halted and Mark finally got his sight back. His eyes ran over the bunch of kids that were on the floor, a pack of cards displayed in front of them and all pairs of eyes burning into him. The blonde on the side scared him the most. His brown eyes glared into his and he gulped down harshly.

"What are you doing here?" One of the males asked, as he got up from his seat and walked over to Mark. "You can't just enter people's houses like that."

"I—" Mark tried speaking but his voice failed on him. His dry throat hurt as he tried again until the brunette that stood in front of him snaked his hand around his neck.

"Don't speak," He said, and Mark's mouth shut faster than he thought it would. "That uniform...you're a pizza delivery boy aren't you," He nodded and the guy sighed. "You weren't meant to come this early. We only do this one at a time."

Mark raised his eyebrows, not trusting his voice to convey his confusion and another brunette by the floor got up to answer. "Should we get rid of him then?"

All of them glanced around the room, coming to a mutual agreement, and Mark felt his knees get shaky. What did they mean by that? And where was Jisung, the person he had come for? Before he could attempt to voice any of his thoughts, all the guys in the room pointed at the blonde, telling him to 'get rid of him'.

The blonde seemed reluctant at first, looking at them with surprise, but then soon masked it with a neutral face. Mark felt the hand on his throat disappear and as soon he took a deep breath, he was pushed onto the ground. The blonde climbed on top of him and Mark looked up at him with surprise. The regretful expression he had on his face, the tiny of guilt in his eyes and his hesitant hand, held up in a way that showed he was ready to punch. 

The blonde opened his mouth and whispered something, knowing the others wouldn't be able to hear it. The hand came flying down for his face, and then Mark blanked out, 'I'm sorry', being the last thing he heard.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Mark woke up, he had a bad headache and was sitting on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the pizza shop. He stretched out his limbs, yawning as he realised it was morning and he was going to switch shifts soon. Mark glanced around the room and then rubbed his eyes. The dream he had seemed so realistic, but everything was slowly fading away from his memory, just like how normal dreams do.

"Well," Mark said as he cracked a few of his bones, "I don't care."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"Once he's awake, bring him to the study room, we'll deal with him there." 

Mark woke up to a few people speaking. Their footsteps got further and further away, except for ones. Some came and stood by him —Mark couldn't see since he was blindfolded — before reaching over to caress his face.

"I'm sorry," The voice, who Mark bad now recognised to be Haechan, said. "I've tried to make them stop, but they're too crazy for me." Haechan continued to caress his face, then run a hand through his hair before settling down for his face again. "Wish I could run away from here with you…"

"You can," Mark answered and Haechan flinched at his consciousness. "Just my blindfolds off and we can run away together."

"That's not possible," Haechan quickly replied, and Mark felt the hands on his shoulder disappear. "One way or another, Jaemin will find me. Once he does, he'll make sure my life is miserable for going against him. He'll—he'll—"

"Haechan, calm down," Mark leaned his head to the side, hitting it against Haechan's stomach and the younger stopped breathing so heavily. "Listen, I will make sure to protect you, but in order to do that, we need to leave right now."

A few more seconds of hesitation passed by before Mark felt his blindfold untie and the ropes around his wrists loosen. He quickly jumped up, glancing at Haechan, who seemed alarmed by his sudden action, and grabbed his wrist. Without wasting any time, Mark ran towards the door, Haechan following him from behind. The two rushed down the hall, looking back every time they heard a noise. Mark's grip of Haechan's wrist was deadly and they tripled multiple times on the stairs. Their heavy footsteps and panting finally reached the ears of the other in the house and they suddenly appeared behind them.

"You can't leave!" Jeno yelled, picking his speed up as he pushed through the house. Mark felt his heartbeat fastened as Jeno neared them, but Haechan hurriedly threw one of the objects around the hallway towards him, successfully managing to trip him. 

"Hurry," Haechan said once they escaped the house. Mark's shaky hands quickly got the keys from his pocket and then jumped onto the motorcycle, Jaemin and the rest of them appearing in their line of vision, but then paid no mind to it. Mark side glanced Jisung, who looked back with an emotionless face and felt his heart break. His best friend had left him and there was no way to get him back. Haechan's arms snaked around Mark's waist and his body pressed against the older's back. 

The sound of the engine was heard and the two felt the wind brush against them, the sight of the other boys left them and soon they were turning the corner. Mark heard Haechan sigh behind him and his arms loosen. He decided to drive toward this house, choosing to not go to the pizza shop again, and definitely not with Haechan since Lucas would probably question his identity (which Mark himself doesn't know about). 

"Thank you," Haechan said once Mark came to a stop, slowly pulling his hands away from the older and looking down with a shy smile. Mark parked the bike to the side, making a note to return it to the shop tomorrow, and then turned back to Haechan, a warm smile of his face.

"No need to thank me... but," Mark took Haechan's hand in his and guided him towards his house. "You need to explain what you guys did in that house."

"Can we," Haechan mumbled and Mark glanced over his shoulder, shooting him a confused look. "Can we maybe talk about this later? I really don't want to talk about the stuff I did there. I regret every part of it and never actually wanted to… to hurt you. I'm sorry."

Mark sighed and then nodded, unlocking the door to his house and took his shoes off. Haechan followed and the sound of footsteps made the two freeze at the entrance.

"Mark?" His mum called out and she poked her head over the stairs. She caught sight of Haechan and immediately covered her mouth. "Oh! Sorry! You two can continue."

Before any of them could clear of her misunderstanding with probably a lie — they couldn't exactly tell Mark's mum that Donghyuck had punched him a few months back and then nearly killed him alongside his friends — his mum ran back into her room and shut her door. 

"Don't worry about her," Mark said, watching as Haechan nervously played with his fingers. "She won't harm you. Also, why don't we start off by introducing ourselves, we didn't really get off on the right path."

Haechan gave an incoherent response and Mark raised his eyebrows, leaning forward to listen more carefully as he asked him to repeat himself.

"My name's Donghyuck," He finally said in a louder voice, his cheeks tinted a light shade of red and Mark couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well then, nice to meet you Donghyuck," Mark held his hand out, waiting for the younger to shake it. With a surprised look, Donghyuck blinked at the gesture, wondering how Mark could easily accept Donghyuck, even though his hands were much dirtier than Mark's. He was afraid he would taint his hands with the amount of murders he assisted in (not that he wanted to help but because of the stuff Jaemin had done — but that's for another day). "Come on, shake my hand."

Donghyuck raised his shaky hand, poking it out and then holding onto Mark's, a sigh leaving his mouth as Mark pulled him forward. He collapsed into Mark's arm and they stood in silence as the older rubbed his back. Tears stung Donghyuck's eyes but he shut them close. He shouldn't be crying right now. He had just escaped the one place he hated the most, ever since Jaemin lured Chenle in, that's when realisation hit Donghyuck and he knew what he was doing was wrong. Unacceptable. Disgusting. 

"It'll get better," Mark said out loud, somehow being able to read Donghyuck thoughts. It was a mystery as to how Mark was still so calm, especially after helping a horrible murder such as Donghyuck, and especially because he was holding that specific person. "It'll get better."

Donghyuck nodded and wrapped his arms around Mark, leaning into his warmth and letting out a sigh.

"It'll get better."

**Author's Note:**

> If you can guess, it's based on peek a boo by red velvet


End file.
